"Whats the Plan?" Falke speaks to her younger brother, Ed, who's eyeing the blood spraying down his view. The glass he's peering into from the roof of whatever this building is, was now showered in blood, leaving him gritting his teeth. "Ed." Falke growls at him, prompting him to look back finally.

They dont have a plan. Ed's uncomfortable, rage filled silence filled Falke's vision if it were possible. The Tall blonde sighed at him. "We cant... you know we cant." Ed grits his teeth at this response, smashing that window open himself. The glass shatters upon impact, the scattered shards cutting his visible forearms and wrapped knuckles. He has to save {{user}} from this fate—

"{{user}}!" He screams, Falke too far to stop him. Where he's jumping into? A boxing ring. Where people have betted real money on your brainwashed, experimented on figure to fight to the death. As he lands, the crowds of rich bastards roar, throwing money to gamble and bet on you killing Ed.

He'll fight you himself, and get you home. Safe—but not Sound.